This was my first stay in the adult psychiatric ward. I was a bit nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. As it turned out, it was mostly like the adolescent unit, but with more factors thrown in in the lives of most individuals. Things such as marital problems, Housing, jobs and children. I was a bit out of place among them. I had tuned 18 just over a month prior.

The next morning, I saw the doctor I was assigned to. A big black man with large eyes. He didn’t say much. I thought it was unusual to spend less that 10 minutes seeing a new patient and getting some background on them. I felt he wasn’t really listening to what I was telling him. I did tell him how many times I was hospitalized before, and why my therapist had sent me back.

The therapy there was actually really good. They had a variety of things, talked on different topics., even art therapy. There was a huge amount of support from the other patients during the group sessions. There were even two guys in wheelchairs. They were constantly reprimanded by staff for doing wheelies and rolling around on just the back two wheels. One was teaching the other how to do it. One of the older patients gave me a new long-sleeved shirt he because I was freezing cold all the time.

That night, I got to the med counter and I was on some strange medication. He had never said anything about changing anything, I took it because I didn’t want to argue. The next morning, I was awakened at about 5AM to see this doctor again. He only saw me for two minutes. I tried to tell him how I was feeling, That I was so depressed, and suicidal. He didn’t say anything, just scribbled a line on his paper and dismissed me. That night, back on the med station, I was on yet another med. I took that one, not understanding why he was doing this.

The net morning, I started having side effects. I tried to tell him, but again he only saw me for about two minutes. Each morning, the first group of the day, the staff would give us all a sheet for use to fill out. We were to circle each symptom that we were experiencing. They were divided into two categories – one for feelings and emotions, and the other for Side effects. I circled a lot. Trying to make it clear to that doctor that my meds were wrong, and I was sill incredibly depressed and suicidal. The new med, and antipsychotic, had started really affecting me. If I stood for two long, my vision would go black, I’d lose part of my hearing, my heart would race and I’d feel so hot. I’d have to sit down immediately or I would faint. This happened multiple times a day. Somehow information leaked to my parents about that antipsychotic. They were just telling me on the phone how awful it was and how much they didn’t want me taking it. They complained about the other one he had added the day before, and antidepressant. That one was making me dizzy, but said that the antipsychotic was worse with the side effects, short and long term. I was envious of the other patients who did not have this doctor.

When the doctor woke me up the next morning, I told him about all the side effects, and that I was still suicidal. I wasn’t sure he actually even looked at the sheet that I filled out every morning. It was the same scenario. Two minutes, not saying anything, and writing a line on his paper.

I wasn’t eating. The doctor had ordered these things called mighty shakes that I was supposed to drink after my meal. I couldn’t do it. It made my stomach hurt so much I couldn’t eat the next meal. The also added another medication, simply because the main side effect was increased weight gain. That, to me, was unbelievable. Then I was called to the med counter for NOON meds. In addition to the antidepressant that was making me dizzy, they were adding a small dose of another medication that was supposed to help the first one, although it was classified as an antipsychotic. They had discontinued the first one of that class because the side effects wouldn’t go away.

The side effects from this new drug were almost immediate. I became so nauseated and sick I couldn’t eat anything at all. I could barely go into the cafeteria without almost throwing up. It was two days before that doctor finally took me off that. At this point I had been in seven days. I got the feeling that he wanted to let me out. I kept circling all my feelings on that sheet, feeling like it wasn’t going to do any good. I went to the med counter again. He had discontinued all the meds except the first antidepressant he out me on, and he out me back on the one I came in with. Seriously? If I was taking it and needed to be hospitalized, why put me back on it? It wasn’t obviously working!

I saw him again the next morning for the usual two minutes. I could tell he wanted to release me. I told that doctor, to his FACE, “If you let me out of here I’m going to kill myself”. He said absolutely nothing and dismissed me from the room. That night, back at the med counter, I find he increased my dose of the antidepressant. He had literally put me on five different meds in the 10 days I was there. The following day I had a discharge date for the next day. I was SHOCKED. Either this doctor did not care, or did not take me seriously. Personally, I don’t think he cared. How much blunter can you be? I turned to the staff. One of them said I couldn’t be released. However, I don’t think she had enough power or time to stop my discharge.

The next morning, they put me on a public greyhound bus that went back to the city where I lived. My mom picked me up. The restrictions they put me under were back, the lack of trust, the watching, searching, and the never-ending questions. My parents had had my plan at least briefly mentioned to them somewhere along the line, but did not know how I was actually planning on doing it. That part I told no one but my therapist. I think they felt like it was more of an idea that I had than an actual plan that I was capable of carrying out. And that was exactly what I wanted the m to think. I had called my boss, and was back on the schedule to go to work. I was no longer going to therapy. And I was no better. But, I was finally home free. I was cleared for my one-way trip.